Chapter 21 #2
“I was never called anything other than Bunny until I went to college, and I introduced myself as Bianca because Bunny sounded childish and a little silly. Not even in high school. Teachers, friends, I was always Bunny. Still am with my family.”
“Do you know why I ghosted you?”
I spin around, staring up into his turbulent green eyes, boring into me with an intensity that shakes me to the marrow of my bones. “I’d like you to tell me,” I say, unable to voice what Ava said about him being disgusted by the sight of me. “The truth.”
Taking my hand, he leads me back through the downstairs to the kitchen, sitting me on a stool at the island. He’s plated the subs and there’s wine in glasses, but I ignore it all. He takes the seat beside me, pivoting us so our knees are touching and we’re facing one another.
With his eyes on the hand he’s holding once again, his fingers toying with mine, he says, “I flew out to Colorado to surprise you. I had kept in touch with Ellis, and he mentioned that you were staying there for a week to celebrate with them before you left for college. I was a resident with no time, and even though we emailed and texted, I wanted to see you. I hadn’t seen you since I left shortly after the funeral, and I needed to make sure you were okay with my own eyes since you weren’t when I had seen you last.”
He glances up, his expression soft, head tilted, so close and familiar it should be strange feeling that, but it’s not.
“No one answered the front door, so I went around the back and found everyone out by the pool. Just before I entered the gate a woman pulled herself up and out of the water. I only saw her from behind, her brown hair dripping water to the middle of her back, but the sight of her stole my breath. All I could think about was that I had to talk to her. That I needed to meet her. She shifted, her face pointed up to the sky, and I caught a glimpse of more luscious curves and smooth, pale skin, and then someone called your name. Someone called Bunny and the woman I was enraptured with turned her head and replied.”
My breath holds tight in my chest, my eyes wide. He sits up, releasing my hand and creating distance between us.
“I was sick with it, Bunny. You were Forest’s little sister and the last time I had seen you, you were a child.
I always thought of you that way. I treated you as I would have Rina.
There was never ever a thought of anything beyond that until I saw you there, eighteen years old and I wanted you.
It was wrong. I was twenty-nine and you were you, so I left.
Deciding then and there I couldn’t speak to you anymore. ”
“W—” I clear the frog from my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me? Give me some sort of explanation? All those texts and emails that went unanswered.”
A humorless chuckle hits the space between us. “What was I going to say? That I saw you in your bikini and was so turned on by you that I could no longer be your friend and confidant?”
“And now? How do you see me now?”
His thumb drags along my bottom lip, his gaze following the motion, taking in every line and feature of my face before settling on my eyes.
“Now I see you as a woman who has somehow managed to get under my skin with her sharp tongue and razor wit. With her endless bravery and unashamed vulnerability. With her sweet smiles and soft heart. With her gorgeous face and stunning curves. A layer I would have sworn was impermeable, you breached. I’m glad it’s you, Bunny, but I’m also relieved I knew you as Bianca first.”
“Because you would have thought of me only as Forest’s little sister otherwise?”
“Maybe.” His hand cups my face. “But that’s not how I see you now.”
My heart thunders in my chest, my breath catching. “You date models and socialites. Not girls like me.”
A smile lights up his face, his grin crooked as he inches closer. “Are you asking me out? Because I only date models and socialites.”
I slap at his chest, and he catches my hand, pressing it against his pounding heart.
He laughs, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing my palm, my wrist before holding it in his lap.
“I only dated models or women who look like models because I never had much of a favorable opinion on love or relationships. I’d seen some awful things come out of that and had always been told I needed to be with a certain type of woman.
I hated the idea of someone telling me who I had to be with.
Not to mention the flip side of that coin, which is women dating me who care nothing for me, only their own selfish gain.
More than that, I’m a loner. I liked being that way.
Never having to answer to anyone or change my lifestyle.
Over the last few years, it just became easier to date women I knew I’d never grow any real attachment to.
Honestly, I stopped dating for the most part about a year ago after a woman broke in here trying to get a condom we used so she could try and get pregnant from it. ”
My eyes bug out of my head, my hand over my mouth. “Seriously? Someone did that?”
“Now you know why I have such high security here.”
I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “So… that’s not… you know, what you’re attracted to?”
He leans in, his lips coasting up my jaw to my ear where he whispers, “I believe I’ve already made my preferences in that clear to you, but no, that’s not what I’m attracted to. I’m attracted to you.”
“And pain,” I quip, but he just pulls back, staring at me, unsmiling now. My blood thrums through my ears as his green eyes grow a bit darker, a touch more lust filled, yet there is a cautious uncertainty lurking beneath his smooth exterior. A question he hasn’t voiced.
His hand hits my thigh, his thumb gliding up and down along the inside of it.
“You’ve stopped breathing.” As if triggered by his words, my lungs expel every ounce of breath.
He grins devilishly. “Sometimes yes. Does the thought of a little pain scare you? Even if I promise to make it feel like the best thing you’ve ever felt? ”
A warm spiral of desire pools low in my belly, my face heating with an unstoppable flush.
Does it? I don’t know. I’ve never tried that with someone who knew what they were doing.
Who would make it pleasurable. Isn’t that what he said Saturday night?
That it’s more about pleasure than pain? And if it’s anything like that was…
“No. It doesn’t scare me with you.”
His hand on my thigh squeezes and I know where this is going.
His unhinged desire all over his face. “I tried to fight it. From the second I saw you walk into the foundation building, I tried to fight it. This unbelievable need I have for you. And not just for your body. I’m tired of fighting it.
I don’t want to fight it. I just want you. ”
I shake my head. “Saturday night notwithstanding, I won’t be that girl for you.”
His hand slips up higher, kneading me. “And what girl do you think you are to me?”
“Maybe that’s my question to you,” I retort, popping a no-bullshit eyebrow. “You tell me you don’t want relationships and I understand that. I just got out of one myself and am not ready for all that again, but that doesn’t make me casual and that doesn’t mean I share.”
He chuckles as if what I just said is the most preposterous thing he’s ever heard.
“Bunny, I have no intention of sharing you. Ever. Knowing who you are and what that means to me? You’re the furthest thing from casual in my head.
” He leans forward, his green eyes all I can see.
“I want you, Bianca. Only you. But can I trust you? I mean, really trust you?”